Seven Minutes Overdue
by Tess90
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester: Investigators of all things paranormal...sometimes.


Dean Winchester let a long and heavy sigh escape from his lips. He moved his hands from his lap, to his head, to twiddling his thumbs in front of him. He was growing restless. Samshould've been back by now.

"May I help you?" asked a female voice.

Dean looked to find a slim red-headed woman standing a few feet away. She was pretty enough, but Dean's mind was oddly elsewhere. The urge to hit on anything with two legs and breasts was not pressing on his mind as usual. Instead, his thoughts were entirely devoted to his brother. A complete waste of brainpower, in his humble opinion, but an important issue nonetheless.

"No, no. I'm good, thanks." He said, forcing a smile.

The redhead nodded and, smiling politely, retreated to a different part of the library.

Dean stretched out his legs, trying to find a comfortable position on the godforsaken wooden bench that he was sitting on. His hands found his pockets, and they buried into them, searching for something that wasn't there. His car keys. Sam had them.

"Sammy. Sammy, where are you?" Dean mumbled, glancing at the clock on the wall.

Sam was now three minutes late. Even though it was only three minutes, Dean couldn't help thinking something had happened. He couldn't forgive himself if something happened to his little brother. And if Sam was around somewhere wasting time,he would ride his ass about it for so long, Sam would start begging Dean to bug him again.This was a very important task he had trusted him with. More than important. Tremendously important.

Dean jumped to his feet on a sudden impulse and began to pace up and down of the aisles. He was mumbling as he walked, talking to himself about ghosts and demons. Dean was not ordinarily the talking-to-yourself kind of guy, but stress made people do unusual things.

If you had seen Dean pacing the rows, talking to himself like madman, you probably would've thought he _was_ mad. The librarian certainly did.

"Sir?" she said, re-approaching him. "Excuse me, sir. You're bothering some of the readers, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Her small pink lips were pulled downwards in a disapproving frown.

Dean didn't care at this point. Sam was now five minutes late. At least if he was forced to wait outside, he could talk to himself as loud as he wanted. The librarian escorted him to the large front doors, and as soon as Dean stepped out, shut them behind him.

"Sam, come on, god damnit, where are you?" he said loudly, causing a passing woman to look at him with scorn.

Dean put on another smile, "Sorry." He called after her, but she ignored him, and continued along. The smile melted from Dean's face as he took a seat on one of the concrete steps in front of the library. He checked his watch. Sam was now officially six minutes late.

"I'm gonna hunt your ass down if you aren't back in two minutes." He said to no one in particular. He looked at his watch again, watching the seconds tick by, counting down.

Another thirty seconds past. Sam was almost seven minutes late. Sam was never late for anything. Ever. In fact, Sam was the most neurotic person if he wasn't on time for everything, Dean recalled. He remembered the day Sam was born. Two days ahead of schedule. Early from the start...

Dean rested his head in his hands as he slouched on the steps. "One mississippi, two mississippi, three-"

His counting was cut off by the roar of a car. His car.

He jumped to his feet as Sam pulled up to the sidewalk.

"Took you long enough!" he said to Sam, who was now getting out of the car.

"Relax. I hit traffic." He said coolly.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Did you get it?" he asked.

Sam nodded, slamming shut the impala's door. He made his way around the front of the vehicle, until he was to where his older brother was standing. "Here." he said simply, setting something in Dean's hands.

A small smile touched Dean's lips as he received the item Sam gave him.

"Exactly how I said?"

Sam nodded.

"Good."

Dean took a long swig from the styrofoam coffee cup he was holding. He smacked his lips and grinned. "Extra foam." He sighed contentedly.

* * *

_Betcha I had you worried, didn't I! Hehe, yup. Coffee withdrawls will make people do weird things. I should know...lol!_


End file.
